


Heaven On Fire

by Elril_Silverstar



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ficlet, Happy Ending, M/M, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 02:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19820233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elril_Silverstar/pseuds/Elril_Silverstar
Summary: A ficlet featuring a touch-starved Aziraphale.This. This truly must be heaven he thought, dissolving into all of that long awaited, longed for touch.





	Heaven On Fire

"Aziraphale…?" Crowley's voice came from behind the angel, impossibly soft.

Crowley had let down his guard and Aziraphale could feel the waves of love rolling off his demon. Each one like a rip current, threatening to pull him under. And the thing was, not only was Aziraphale certain that he couldn't resist that pull for long, he didn't _want_ to resist any more. He'd spent six thousand years resisting, because they were on _opposite sides,_ because they were (are) an _angel_ and a _demon._ Because there could never be anything between them. It was forbidden. 

But now they were on their own side, and Crowley was standing behind him so close he could smell the musky, slightly spicy cologne emanating from him.

"Aziraphale?" Crowley asked again, and this time he reached out to put a hand on the Angel's shoulder.

At that Aziraphale stiffened, unable to decide whether to pull away or melt into that touch. It had been so long since anyone had touched him. Never mind touched him _like that_ with love, affection, and _reverence_ pouring out to him, enveloping him. It burned like fire. 

Confused, and fearing he had upset the angel Crowley pulled away, taking a step back and removing his hand. 

"No! Wait!" Aziraphale half begged. "No please don't, come back!" He whirled around, desperate for that searing touch. He seized Crowley by the lapels of his jacket, intending to haul Crowley to him. Instead he found himself frozen. 

Crowley's eyes widened behind his sunglasses. The pleading desperation in Aziraphale's voice threatened to smash his heart to pieces. Slowly, gingerly he reached up. Uncurling his angel's fingers from his lapels, twining his own into them instead. 

Gently, he brought one hand up and ghosted his lips over Aziraphale's fingers. 

His angel shivered, eyes nearly the size of saucers. 

"Is this alright angel?" Crowley asked turning their hands and pressing a kiss to the webbing between Aziraphale's thumb and forefinger. 

"Yes, oh yes. Perfectly alright." Aziraphale breathed, feeling like the wind and been knocked out of him. 

Disentangling his other hand from Crowley's grip he reached out, this time his hand found Crowley's hip and he managed to pull the demon to him. 

"More than alright really." His voice jumped as he pressed himself into Crowley's slim figure. Surely _this_ was heaven, this glorious feeling burning along his nerves like wildfire. 

"And this?" Crowley queried cupping Aziraphale's face with his free hand, leaning down to brush the lightest of kisses across the angle's lips. 

Aziraphale nodded, "More of that please." He whispered, and closed the distance between them hungrily pressing his lips to Crowley's. His nerves sang, it was like pressing his mouth to a glowing coal. Crowley tasted of espresso, of wine, and cinnamon. 

_This. This truly must be heaven_ he thought, dissolving into all of that long awaited, longed for touch.


End file.
